Where Angels Trod
by RushtonLane
Summary: Mary always told her boys that angels were watching over them. She didn't know how true her words were. Set during Season 3, slight spoilers for Season 3 and 4. All rights to characters and show belong to someone else.
1. Chapter 1

It was so dark the Impala's headlights barely cut through the night and Dean drove as fast as he dared on the twisty road. Sam's low moans told him the kid hadn't passed out yet which wasn't exactly a relief because Dean kept throwing side glances, checking on him. The road wasn't meant for side glances. The lack of light prevented Dean from seeing the sickly greenish gray pallor of Sam's skin, which was a blessing. His original intent was to make it to Bobby's, but now he'd settle for the closest motel. Sam didn't get sick often, but when he did, there were no half measures. His little brother made "The Exorcist" look like a kiddie movie. There was no way he was going to let his baby take that kind of abuse.

"Dean, gotta pull over, man," Sam moaned.

Sam's voice startled him, all he could say was, "What?"

"Gonna be sick, man. Pull! Over!"

His baby didn't fail him. He pulled to the side of the road, slammed on the brakes, threw it in parked, jumped out the door, rounded the front and had Sam's door open in under forty-five seconds. It was a good thing too because sixty-seconds would've meant cleaning up the contents of Sam's stomach from the footwell. Dean awkwardly patted Sam's shoulder as the younger man continued to puke on the side of the road.

Sam was too busy losing everything he'd eaten for the last week and Dean was to busy trying not to join his brother in the puke feast to hear the thrum of an engine coming up the road. They were also too preoccupied to pay attention to the amazing Victory motorcycle pulling up behind their car, the cutting of its engine, or the rider getting off the bike.

"Well, well look who we have here. Dean Winchester is that you?"

Dean whipped around so fast he had to grab the car roof to keep from tipping over. He couldn't believe his eyes. She was definitely the hottest babe he'd ever met and he hadn't seen her in two years. Her appearance was identical to the last time, full biking leathers, long flowing brown hair pulled back in an untidy braid and a full face helmet with impressive angel wing decals on each side tucked under her arm. Looking around, he saw no means of transportation for her, but for some reason, he wasn't concerned about it.

"Michelle, what the hell. It's really good to see you! What, how did you get here?" Forgetting about Sam for a second, Dean moved to embrace the woman in a huge bear hug. He truly couldn't believe she was here.

"My bike broke down about a mile back and I've been thumbin' and walkin' trying to get to town."

Dean looked towards where she'd gestured, the same way he and Sam had been coming from. He didn't remember seeing anyone on the side of the road, but then again his concentration had been somewhere else. Just as he was about to give Michelle another hug, Sam's groans brought him back around to the side of the car.

"How ya doin,' Sammy?"

"Not so good. Can we stop for the night, please?"

"Sure, Sammy. There's a little place just a couple miles ahead. I saw a road sign for a motel. Can you make it that far?"

Sam grunted, nodding his head. Dean had forgotten about Michelle until she asked,"What's wrong with your brother?"

"Got a good case of the stomach flu, I think. We're headed to the closest motel. Can give you a lift if you want one?"

"I'd appreciate it, but maybe you should go further. I've been through this little town before and it's quite a dump."

"Probably've stayed in worse. I really need to get Sam into a bed."

Together they manage to get Sam into the backseat of the Impala. Michelle crawled in beside him, putting his head in her lap. She gently rubbed his forehead. Giving her his puppy dog look, Sam muttered "Nice pillow," then drifted to sleep.

Dean took in the scene and shook his head. "Man, even sick that kid can get the women to fall for that look. Climbing in the driver's seat, he did a quick review look to make sure his passengers were settled before getting the car back on the road.

The little town they pulled into was just that, little. Main street was four blocks long with a gas station/grocery store/restaurant on one end and a two bit flea bag motel on the other. The multipurpose business boasted a sign saying it was open twenty-four hours, 365 days a year. The side streets seemed to give way to residential only and even though it wasn't terribly late, most of the houses were dark. The motel sign flashed vac_ncy with the "y" joining the absent "a" as Dean pulled up next to the office.

"Hang tight and I'll get us some rooms." Dean threw the words over his shoulder, already moving to get out and head for the door. The motel lounge looked like an ode to the 70's, a very dirty 70's, but since he'd seen worse, Dean walked straight to the desk. Not seeing anyone, he gave the handbell a quick swat. A withered old man poked his head around the doorframe, squinting his eyes at the young man standing in his lobby.

"What can I do ya for?" he questioned in a voice that had Dean wondering how many packs the guy smoked in an hour.

"Just need a couple of rooms for a night or two."

"All's I got left if one with two queens in it," gravel voice responded just a little too gleefully for Dean.

Too tired and too worried to care, Dean booked the room, paying for it under the name of Robert Plant. Coming out of the lobby, Dean could see Michelle attempting to get a noncooperative Sam out of the backseat. He rushed to help and explained they were bunkmates or the evening. Michelle responded with a grimace as they deposited Sam on the bed farthest from the door. She again suggested they just pack up and go to the next town over, but Dean was adamant about not moving Sam any more. As Dean's tone indicated he was done with the subject, Michelle let the matter drop.

She was about to help get Sam more comfortable when she saw the look on Dean's face. Instead she offered to grab their gear from the car. Dean tossed the keys to her, "Knock yourself out," he said as she grabbed the room key and let herself out. Busy undressing Sam, Dean didn't notice Michelle stop just outside the door and Sam's sudden coughing fit prevented him from hearing the low murmur of words being spoken outside the closed door.

Michelle came back with everything before Dean finished getting Sam settled. "Do you always move so fast?" he questioned as he pulled the last blanket up over his sleeping brother.

"You should see me move when it's raining out," she replied. Her strange answer didn't bother him at all.

In fact, none of Michelle's unusual behavior had ever bothered him. He had always taken her at face value. The exotic beauty just had that effect on him.


	2. Chapter 2

Dean acquiesced on Michelle's third offer and let her help tend to Sam. He was relieved to have some help for a change. It has always been his responsibility to take care of his younger brother. Just this once he allowed himself a break, besides she was much better at the whole sponge bath thing than he was. After a couple of hours, Sam settled down into a somewhat peaceful sleep and Dean dozed in his chair. His growling stomach jerked him awake.

"Haven't had anything since this morning," he grumbled in response to Michelle's chuckle. "Could do with some food, how bout you? I can make a quick jog down to the multi store."

"Sounds good, but why don't you let me go. Not sure how Sam would take it if he woke up to find a complete stranger filling in for his big brother."

Seeing no reason to argue with her logic, Dean tossed her a couple of twenties from his wallet. "Cool. Bring me some pie if they have any. I could really go for some pie."

"I'll see what I can do and I'll see if they have some soup for Sam." Pocketing the bills and the room key, Michelle stepped through the door, closing it quickly behind her.

Feeling the comfortable weight of the sword in her hand, Michelle walked across the parking lot keeping tab on the glowing yellow eyes peering out of the shadows. She turned back briefly to check her handy work from earlier. What she saw reassured her that the two young men would be fine while she got the necessary fuel for their bodies, yet she knew she needed to move with haste. Her thoughts stayed on her charge as she quickly cover the four block distance. He was such a stubborn cuss which always served to make her job more difficult than necessary. As great as her charms were, Dean Winchester didn't fall for all of them especially when it came to Sam's welfare. She'd need reinforcements if they didn't get out of this town soon.

Entering the multi store, as Dean had called it, Michelle made a fast assessment of the situation relieved to see that it had yet to be taken over and she wouldn't have to do anything special to obtain some food. Knowing the current state could change in the blink of an eye, she made her order for supper and breakfast. She wanted them to have as little exposure as possible.

Dean sat next to his little brother, wiping his face and neck with a damp cloth again. Sam's temperature wasn't bad, but he seemed to be soothed by the ministrations, so Dean continued. The pounding on the door brought Dean to full attention. Palming his knife, he stealth-fully moved to glare through the peep hole. He set the knife down on the table as he opened the door for Michelle. "It looks like you bought the entire restaurant," he commented, grabbing bags from her overflowing arms.

"Yeah, and it looks like old habits never die," she responded pushing the knife to the side as she unloaded her burdens. Dean just shrugged. "How'd you carry all this back by yourself," he asked gesturing at the multiple bags.

"I borrowed a shopping cart."

"Really? You _borrowed_ a shopping cart?"

"Well, borrowed may be stretching it, but hey, it's such a small town, I'm sure they'll find it eventually."

Dean chuckled while he continued to unload the groceries. Not wanting to wake his sleeping sibling, Dean put the soup in the small fridge the room afforded before he dug into the array of food Michelle had brought back and oh, sweet Jesus, she'd found pie. Dean's hunter senses failed to pick up on the fact that Michelle didn't touch a single portion of the meal.

As he forked the last bite of pie, Dean asked, "What about your bike? Did you get someone to haul it into town for you?"

Michelle was slightly stunned by his inquiry as she had assumed he'd forgotten the tale she'd told. "Yeah, I managed to speak to the local mechanic while waiting for the food. He's going to drive out and bring it back to his garage."

"Hmm, hope it doesn't cost you an arm and a leg."

"Well, worth it if that's the case. That bike is like family."

"Know what you mean," Dean mumbled, thinking about his beloved Impala.

While Michelle cleaned up the remnants of their dinner, Dean checked on Sam. He was a little warmer than Dean liked so Dean pulled out their first aide bag. Normally, the bag contained almost everything a man who hunted the strange and weird would need, but he couldn't find the Tylenol bottle. He had dumped the entire contents onto the second bed before Michelle noticed his agitation. "What's wrong, Dean?"

"We're out of Tylenol. I want to get some into Sam before his fever goes any higher."

Sam's timing couldn't have been any better if he'd planned it. "D'nnnnn, too hot."

"I know, Sammy. I'm gonna run to the store for some meds."

"Gone long?"

"Nah, Sammy, just a few minutes. You be okay till I get back?"

"I f'n."

"You sure? Michelle can stay with you."

At a name Sam didn't recognize, he managed to raise his head off the pillow to cast his fevered gaze over the room. Not seeing anyone but Dean, he asked, "Who M' elle?" The effort was too much though and Sam's head dropped back down, asleep again before Dean could respond.

"You mind staying with him while I stock up?" Dean half stated, half asked. "I also need to stretch my legs."

Michelle reached over to touch his shoulder. He was a little easier to manipulate when physical contact was involved. "I think Sam will be okay alone for a few minutes. I'll go with. I want to see if the mechanic is able to fix my bike." She held her breath when it looked like he was going to argue, but he glanced again at Sam to see that he was really asleep again. "Yeah, okay. Let's make it quick though."

She scanned the parking lot as Dean closed the door behind them. There were more of them than when she'd got the food, but not more than she could handle, not yet anyway. The faint glow from the sword clearly sent the intended message, "I know you're out there but you'd be foolish to try to take him." While Dean was her primary charge, Michelle knew she had to watch out for Sam as well for the brothers were a package deal. Protecting Dean meant protecting Sam. The glowing symbol on their room door warned them to stay away from Sam as well.


	3. Chapter 3

The street was deserted. Not a single business was open save for the multi store. The whole town gave Dean the heebie jeebies. His left hand casually checked for his gun tucked into his waistband while his right reached inside his jacked to pull out his knife. He figured Michelle could probably take care of herself if the need arose, but he'd feel better if she was armed. "Here, take this."

Michelle looked at the proffered weapon and gave a little smile. "Not necessary. I have one of my own." She reached down and pulled up her pant leg to show him the hilt of knife sticking out of the top of her boot.

He nodded in approval, "Good. Keep it handy."

The diner portion of the building was full. The entire room turned to stare at the pair when they walked in, most slowly turning back to their own businesses as the couple moved further into the store. This didn't escape Dean's notice. "Freakin' small towns."

"Dean, let's just get outta here. This place is creepy," Michelle pleaded touching his arm again. She hated playing a damsel in distress, but she knew Dean couldn't resist playing a knight.

"Stick close. This will only take a second." Dean grabbed her hand and dragged her rapidly through the aisles, plucking stuff off the shelves as they went by. Marching up to the cashier Dean couldn't help the words that tumbled out of his mouth, "Don't you people have anything better to do in this place?"

The cashier's gaze seemed to pierce through to his soul. He stepped back from the counter, bumping into Michelle in the process. The woman behind the counter seemed to notice Michelle for the first time. Her look turned snide with a hint of fear. "Sixteen oh nine," she said not taking her eyes off the biker girl. Dean went for his wallet, but Michelle intercepted the motion. "I have enough left from before." She laid the money on the counter, but the woman didn't make any attempt to take it until Michelle pulled her hand back.

Dean witnessed the exchange but restricted himself to saying, "Forget the change. Let's get out of here." He was now as eager as Michelle was to get out of the creepy little place. The strangeness made him want to get back to Sam. Now. A quick glance around told Michelle more than she needed to know. The watchers had increased. They'd spread out from the hotel parking lot to cover the block in front of the hotel. They were getting braver. Michelle's blade glowed brighter, looking more like flames by the second. Dean wasn't completely unaware of the situation. His instincts had been finely honed over the years and he had an uncanny knack for sensing the weird. His whole demeanor screamed Hunter! The two made an imposing sight. The watchers drew back as the couple passed by them.

Once back in the room, Dean checked on Sam then administered the correct dosages of medicine. It was a testimony to how bad Sam was feeling that he didn't even complain that the liquid tasted like grape. Reading each of the labels carefully, Michelle laid out the remaining items in the order she thought they might need them but after that, she seemed at a loss. Noticing her confused face, Dean took pity on her, "Why don't you take the first shower and we can try to get some shut eye."

"Thanks. I'll take you up on that. Can I borrow a shirt?" At Dean's dumbfounded look, she grinned. "I need something to sleep in. All my stuff is in my saddlebags on the bike."

"You left your gear?" Dean asked completely stunned.

"Only the things that are easily replaceable, clothes, toothbrush, that kind of stuff. Didn't want to carry anymore than necessary."

Dean nodded. "Makes sense. Take one of Sam's. It'll cover you more than mine." Digging though Sam's bag, he tossed her a well worn long sleeve plaid shirt.

Holding up to her body, she couldn't help herself. "I could wear this as a dress."

"Yeah, except for the slit on the side. I wouldn't go commando if I were you."

"Ah, Dean, you really know how to sweet talk the ladies. For that, I might even leave you some hot water," she tossed over her should as she sauntered to the bathroom. She couldn't resist sending him a flirtatious look before closing and locking the door. She could hear his laugh over the running water.

Dean turned on the TV, lowering the volume and settled against the headboard of the second bed. He glanced over at Sam who lying on his stomach, sprawled across the whole bed. Another testament to how sick he was as he never slept on his stomach unless he was trying to control nausea and he certainly never sprawled. It dawned on Dean that there was no way he was going to be able to sleep in the same bed as Sam. Not that he wanted to in the first place, but Michelle needed a place to sleep. Dean eyed the lumpy chair next to the TV with weary acceptance.

Just then, the bathroom door opened and Michelle stepped out. Dean couldn't help staring. The woman made his brother's shirt look like a million bucks or rather, she looked like a million bucks. Dean wasn't quite sure how that phrase was supposed to go as his upper brain functions had quit working.

"Dean, I said what do you think? Am I ready for the ball?"

Shaking his head hoping to control his thoughts. "Yeah, you'd win prom queen for sure."

"Flatterer. Your turn," she replied gesturing to the door behind her.

Dean scrambled off the bed and grabbed his gear, while trying not to let Michelle see his face.

"Don't worry. I'm not commando," she quipped.

Damn, now she could read his thoughts. Dean slammed the door behind him. Now it was his turn to listen to laughter from the outer room. He turned the shower on, setting the water to cold. It would not do to give her physical evidence of how much she'd affected him. He may have only four months left but there was no way he'd try anything with Sam in the room even if the dude was in a fever induced sleep.

Michelle had other things on her mind while Dean was indisposed. She used the time to call in some reinforcements. If she was going to keep her cover, she'd have to at least pretend to sleep which would mean she wouldn't be completely in tune. She needed some brethren outside to cover the gap. Making sure Sam couldn't hear her, she sent out the prayer. Confirmation came quickly, they'd be there in milliseconds. She waited in silence until she felt their presence. They were safe for a while. Now to the immediate matter of making sure Dean wasn't going to be uncomfortable over the sleeping arrangements. She needed him to be in top form as well, which means he would need his customary four hours of sleep. Grabbing the bed spread, she rolled it up and laid it down the bed. She generously gave Dean a little over half the sleeping area, but she did take the extra pillow.

Sam started coughing. Michelle went over to check on him, finding his breathing labored. She poured out the correct dosage of cough syrup, setting the cup on the nightstand. "Sam, I need you to wake up a little. It's time for some more meds." Sam complied enough for her to get the liquid past his lips. She knew it wouldn't help with his breathing. She needed to get creative. Proving that appearances could be deceiving, she rearranged Sam on the bed.

Dean came out of the bathroom only to halt in surprise at the scene before him. Michelle had piled all but one pillow from the beds against the headboard, propped herself up against them, arranging them so they stuck up behind her on one side and propped Sam up against her with his head resting on the pillows behind her shoulder. The blankets were pulled up to just above Sam's waist. Michelle's left arm was tucked up around his and her right was around the front, slowly massaging his chest. If it hadn't been for that movement, Dean would've thought they were both asleep.

Michelle didn't even bother opening her eyes when she replied to his unasked question, "He seems to breathe easier this way."

"Let me stash my stuff and I'll trade you places."

"No, Dean, I just got him settled. We're good for now. You can take the second watch." Before the argument could pass his teeth, "Dean, be sensible. Get some sleep. I can take of Sam for a few hours."

Dean had finally met his match in stubbornness, "All right, wake me in four." Seeing the other bed's set up, he threw a smirk over his shoulder as he crawled under the covers.

"I saw that look," Michelle whispered over Sam's head. A muffled "Nu uh," was the only reply she got.


	4. Chapter 4

Consciousness slowly returned as Dean cracked open one eye trying to remember where he was. It all came back and he sat up suddenly, glancing around the room. He wondered if he might need to get his eye sight checked as he gazed at his little brother. Sam was still propped up but against the headboard this time. Michelle was sitting next to him, spoon feeding him some soup. They were carrying on a whispered conversation, mostly one-sided on Michelle's part.

"Supposed to have woke me," he grumbled.

"You know what they say, let sleeping dogs lie."

Dean mumbled something obscene and headed for the bathroom. She didn't even have the courtesy to try to sound like she was teasing. Sleeping dogs, yeah right, he thought to himself. He'd make a cool dog though, maybe a great dane or a mastiff. Nah, he'd be a shepherd-wolf mix. Yeah, that's what he'd be. Dean shook his he to clear his thoughts. Where had all of that come from? Jesus, that woman could mess with his mind. He quickly shed his sleeping clothes and started his morning routine, but his mind wondered on him again.

They'd first met about two months after Sam had run off to Stanford. He and John had been chasing a ghost that liked to hang out at a biker bar and take out the women who frequented the place. Not just any woman though, she had to fit a certain profile: tall, physically fit, long brown hair and legs that didn't stop. John sent Dean in to check for possible candidates, since he looked more like the patrons than John did. There were a few possibilities, but Michelle stood out. Her whole demeanor exuded confidence, strength and she wore it well. Perfect pickings for the ghost. Dean didn't like the idea of using a civilian as bait, but he couldn't find a good argument for John's reasoning; we don't know who this bastard is, so we need to get eyes on it so we can get a name, find the grave and salt n' burn the SOB.

The damn thing was predictable. It made a grab for Michelle that night. Dean memorized the face, called it into his dad and ran to save the girl. Dean managed to get her out of the clutches of the ghost without getting the crap beat out of him. Instead of being grateful, Michelle was pissed. She didn't turn tail n' run to the comfort of her home, Noooo, she demanded to know just "what in the hell was going on," and what could she do to help. Neither John nor Dean could turn her down even though letting her help went against every instinct they had, they just couldn't seem to say no.

Together, they figured out it was drifter who'd died in a nasty bar fight. He'd been cremated, all but for two fingers. The digits had been cut off in the fight by the chick who'd started it and they'd never been found. Since the chick had died in the fight too, John figured the missing appendages had to still be in the bar. Michelle insisted on going with them after closing time. The trio miraculously managed to find the body parts, but not before the ghost did some serious bodily harm to Dean.

John wasn't sure about leaving Dean, but he'd promised Jim he'd help him with a demon issue. With a broken back, torn rotator cuff and a severe concussion, Dean wasn't going anywhere for a long time. Since he didn't really seem to mind being left with Michelle, John'd taken off without a backwards glance, he'd always been easier to guide than his son. He checked in every few days to make sure Dean was on the mend, but he didn't come back until Dean was completely healed.

For Dean, the time went rather quickly. Yeah, it'd sucked being laid up, but Michelle had ways to distract him. He even managed at times to forget he was mad at Sam. They did many things from talking to playing cards (she'd helped him with his poker game, more than he was willing to admit) while he was immobile and they did a few more things when he could move around. When John showed up, Dean wasn't keen on leaving, but he did anyway. He ran into Michelle about once every three to four months after that as she seemed to move around as much as he did. The last two years were different. They hadn't bumped into each other at all, not since he'd dropped in on Sam at Stanford when John went missing.

"Are you taking up residence in there? Sam needs to use the facilities." Michelle's teasing tone brought him back to the present. He shook his head at his reflection, brushed his teeth and dressed.

When she heard the door open, Michelle motioned Dean over to the bed. "Help me get him up, he's as weak as a kitten."

"Am not. I can take a piss on my own" Sam protested sounding like a three year old.

"Okay, big boy, let's see you do it," she challenged stepping back from the bed.

After a couple of aborted attempts to stand on his own, Sam admitted defeat. "So, okay, do need a hand."

Dean watched the whole interplay with a grin but rushed to help Sam the minute help was requested. With Michelle on one side and Dean on the other, they made it into the bathroom. Sam insisted that the "party" stop there; he could do the rest on his own. Closing the door, Dean rolled his eyes at it. "Baby brothers, whatcha gonna do with 'em."

Sam had been a few minutes and Dean was getting nervous. Michelle was just about to touch his arm to calm him down when Sam called out meekly, "Dean, I, uh, need more help." Laughter laced his voice when he asked, "Whatcha need, Sammy."

"Um, can't get up from the toilet," Sam replied so softly he almost wasn't heard.

Dean rolled his eyes again and grabbed the handle. "Cover up! I'm comin' in."

By the time they got Sam back in bed and settled, Dean was starving and Michelle was agitated. She knew, no matter how much power she used, she wouldn't get Dean to agree to leave today. Time for plan B. For once, her thoughts were so focused, she didn't realize what Dean was doing until it was almost too late. "Where you going?"

"Gonna get us some grub."

"We've got plenty of leftovers. We can chow down on them," Michelle stated. When it looked like Dean would object, she casually moved over to her grab her jacket, making sure she brushed against him in the process.

Suddenly feeling a little confused, Dean stutter, "Uh, yeah, that sounds good. Not like it's the first time I've had cold Chinese for breakfast."

"We could always use the in house hairdryer to heat it up a little." Dean gave her a "what the hell, why not" look, grabbed the cartons and made for the bathroom. It was only seconds before she heard the whir of the dryer. She allowed her self a small smile for her small victory. It was going to be a very, very long day.

Dean reappeared with the take out cartons in hand. Michelle couldn't help but grin because, damn, they were steaming. He set them down on the small table by the TV and motioned for her to join him. "Think the garage will get your bike fixed so you can take off today?" He asked while blowing on a piece of sweet and sour chicken.

"Not sure. Didn't see the guy on our sprint through the store last night."

"Yeah. Sorry 'bout that. That place set off my radar. It felt like we were being scoped out, like for a last meal or somethin'."

Michelle's eyebrow went up at that remark. She should know by now to never underestimate her charge. "It was kinda bizarre. I was hoping they were thinking we were the next Hollywood power couple."

"Yeah, right, D'chelle. Badass and the biker babe."

Michelle's throaty laugh brought a "Would you two shut up. I'm tryin' to sleep over here," from Sam.

"Sorry, Sammy. We'll try to keep our extracurriculars below super sonic." This time Michelle's laugh caused a load moan and pillow abuse as Sam buried his head under two of them.

"Guess he's on the mend," Dean chuckled, gesturing to Sam. "So you wanna go see about your bike? I could use some fresh air."

"Yeah, I should probably do that, but I can go on my own."

"Nuh, yuh. No. Frickin'. Way. You are not walking around this crazy town by yourself."

"What about Sam? Don't you think you should stay here and take care of him?"

"He's on the mend. Just needs another day of rest. Isn't that right, Sammy?"

Dean's query elicited a muffled, "Hummphff, sleee'n D'nn."

"See. He'll make for a little while on his own. This town ain't that big. We'll be back under thirty."

Knowing that once again this was a battle she couldn't win, Michelle gave in, "Fine."

"Awesome. Let's get the party started. Be back in a few, Sammy. Stay in bed like a good boy."

Sam's reply was the one finger salute and Dean laughed as he pushed Michelle out the door.


	5. Chapter 5

His instincts were on high alert. His body radiated with awareness but he wasn't sure why. The town looked like any other two bit town; a little low on humans but no visible reason for his edginess. Dean couldn't shake the feeling that something was horribly wrong with this place. Maybe he would take Michelle's advice and ditch this place today, Sam could sleep in the car. He'd make sure Michelle left too. "You still armed?" Dean asked, his unease lacing his voice.

Damn, the boy was good. "Always," Michelle replied reaching out to touch his left arm. "Dean, I don't think this is such a good idea. I'll just call the garage and check on my ride." Much to her chagrin, he didn't fall for the plea not that she'd really expected him to. Time for some more help. Michelle quickly set out the request hoping that Dean wouldn't hear her.

"You say something?"

Deciding to play dumb, she replied, "Huh?"

"You were talking to yourself."

"Nope, not me." Dean's expression made her come up with a quick lie. "If you must know, I was praying you'd slow down. You have a freakishly long stride and in case you haven't noticed, I'm at least four inches shorter than you."

Dean stopped dead in his tracks. He turned to her not even trying to hide his amusement, "I could always give you a piggy back ride." His answer was a slap to the back of the head which made him yelp.

Grinning like a fool, he grabbed her hand and set off again, slightly slower than his original pace.

Even though the sign said "Open" the garage looked anything but with all the blinds pulled down on every window of the office including the glass door. Michelle's bike was visible just inside one of the closed bay doors. "This isn't suspicious at all," Dean quipped, one of his eyebrows meeting his hairline and his mouth twisted into a wry smile. He reached out, trying the door handle, a little surprised when it turned easily in his hand and the door swung inward.

Dean had been in some seedy looking places in his time, this place beat them all including the current motel's lobby. He was certain the cockroaches had established their own ecosystem under the file cabinets and he wasn't willing to even contemplate what the mice were doing. The kid behind the desk took him by surprise. Clean, almost to the point of being OCD, geeky with huge horn-rimmed glasses and a smile that made him look like a sixteen year old who'd just got his first kiss. There was no way he was a mechanic, his hands, hovering over a filthy computer keyboard, looked like they had never even held a knife and fork, let alone a crescent wrench. This did not bode well for Michelle's bike.

Oh, Mother Mary, Michelle thought, following Dean into the room. She now understood why humans face palmed. It took everything she had to keep from visibly cringing as she took in her compatriots appearance. They'd sent a rookie. Hoping she could salvage the situation, she started to greet the amateur. He cut her off before she could.

"You must be the owner of that sweet ride in there."

"Uh, yeah," was all she could say.

Dean, picking up on Michelle's unusual reaction, took control of the moment. "Yeah, so is it fixed?"

The kid bounced up and literally skipped around the desk, taking them through to the garage bays. "You bet! Fixed right up! Didn't take much. Clogged fuel line. Bad gas probably. Gotta watch those shady stations. They like to water down their gas and in the process get some dirt into the tanks. Sure can muck up your engine if it gets past the lines. Lucky yours just got to the line. Took it off and blew it out. Runs like a gem now."

Dean leaned over and whispered in Michelle's ear, "That kid needs some Ritalin and probably oxygen too." Out loud he asked, "You do all the work yourself?"

"Who me? Of course not!" The kid sounded affronted. "I just fill in for the office. My dad does all the work. He's off today. Mom's got a whole bunch of chores for him today and things have been a bit slow so here I am and there he is. Wasn't much to the work. Total comes to seventy-five even. We take cash or credit, no personal checks. Can't trust those these days. Shined it up for free for you. It's a mighty sweet ride. I'm hoping to get a bike someday, but you know Mom. Well, you probably don't, but trust me when I say it wouldn't be a welcome addition to the driveway. So anyway, you got the payment? I'll open the overhead."

Dean felt like he'd just been through a verbal pinball machine. He looked at Michelle to see if she'd followed anything the kid had said which she must have done as she was pulling cash from her pocket. Her stunned expression made him feel better though. She handed over the money to the verbal washing machine while walking over to her ride. One would've had to been blind to not see the look of pure ecstasy on her face as she threw her leg over the machine and settled into the seat. Watching her switch on the fuel, thumb the ignition and rev the engine, Dean almost asked her if she wanted him to leave so she could have some privacy, but his sense of self preservation kept the words from leaving his mouth. Motioning with her head for Dean to climb on behind her, she leveled up the bike and pushed the kick stand up. Dean moved in behind her, putting his arms tightly around her waist, instinct kicking in again, telling him to hang on. With more speed than necessary, they leapt through the opening. Dean didn't have time to look backwards to see the helpful kid disappear wearing a huge grin.

Michelle drove the main street three times for two reasons. First she wanted to assess the current status. She hadn't had a chance to communicate with the others and she preferred first hand knowledge. Second, she just couldn't help giving into the temptation of riding the motorcycle. A very human thing to do, but she didn't think anyone would care. Not liking what she saw, she turned into the motel lot on the third run, parking next to the Impala. She really needed to get the brothers out of town. Things were escalating faster than anticipated.

Preoccupied with trying to plan their exodus, Michelle didn't fully take in the scene before them as they walked into their room, but Dean did. Sam was no where in sight and retching sounds emanated from the bathroom. "Sammy," Dean shouted barreling towards the sounds. Catching Dean's anxiety, Michelle followed on his heels. They found Sam hunched over the toilet, dry heaving. He'd obviously been there for a while, probably since right after they'd left, since he was embracing the porcelain like a long lost lover. All Michelle could think was, "Shit."

The next forty minutes were spent trying to get Sam to the point where they could put him back in bed. Cool wash clothes to the face and neck, never ending circles rubbed on his back and pointless sips of water cause they just came right back up, marked the minutes. By the time Sam was tucked back under the bed covers, one of the other room's occupants was exhausted. Taking advantage of his weariness, Michelle sat down on the second bed, letting out a deep sigh and patted the area next to her. Dean didn't need the invitation, he was already moving towards the empty space, emitting a groan as he stretched out. "Jesus! I didn't think a body could lose that much liquid."

Reaching out, he pulled Michelle into his side and shifted around until he was comfortable. Michelle didn't utter a word as she laid her head on his chest and wrapped her arm around his waist. It was only seconds before Dean was snoring. Knowing this wouldn't last, Michelle started working on evacuation plans, several of the them, just to make sure she'd have options for every one of Dean's objections. She felt like she was gearing up for a fight. Unfortunately, she wasn't wrong.


	6. Chapter 6

Wakefulness pecked at the corner of his brain, but Dean wasn't quite ready for it. He was cozy and warm. _Cozy, where had that come from, it wasn't in his normal vocabulary, but it fit_. He was cozy. The warmth covered his side and middle like an extra big heating pad. It took a few seconds for his fuzzy brain to realize it wasn't a heating pad, but an exceptionally gorgeous female. Man, he could get use to waking up like this. _What the hell, where did that come from as well. Awesome, he must be coming down with Sam's crud. _Despite his inner conversation, he wanted nothing more than to make full advantage of the moment and did until Sam's coughing caught his attention and full consciousness slammed into his brain.

Trying to disengage himself from Michelle without waking her up, Dean swung his legs off the bed.

"No need for stealth, I'm awake."

Dean didn't answer but shot her a cheeky grin instead. He reached over and placed his hand on Sam's forehead. Warm but not too bad. His coughing had already stopped. Dean pulled the covers back up to Sam's shoulders and tucked him in like he'd done when Sam was little. That done, Dean went through a series of stretches, loosening up his stiff shoulders and back.

Michelle watched the ministrations with a slight smile. She'd always admired this human from the first time she'd set eyes on him, running out of the burning house, baby brother locked firmly in his arms. He'd shown quiet strength and extreme protectiveness even then. Through the years he'd gained and honed many more traits and skills, but the first two he would always excel at all because of his love for his little brother. Knowing this made what she had to do next that much harder.

"Dean, I know that Sam's still a little under the weather, but I really think we should get out of this town."

"Nothing's stopping you, sweetheart," he retorted, heading for the bathroom. "I'm not budging Sam, at least not till tomorrow and I wanna do some checkin' around."

Hoping her knowing sigh wasn't audible, she asked, "What do you mean checkin' around?"

Stopping at the bathroom door, Dean gave her a hard look. "There's something fishy about this place. Might be a job. Wanna check it out before we just take off."

"I don't think that is such a hot idea."

"Didn't ask for your opinion. Now if you're done, I gotta take a piss."

Raising her voice to be heard through the closed door, "Well that was crude," she retorted. The toilet flushing was the reply. She moved to lean against the wall to the side of the door, prepping for her attack.

Dean didn't see her as he came out, which is why he nearly came unglued at her voice. "How 'bout using some common sense here, Dean. Sam's out of commission, but mobile. Wouldn't it just be easier to put this place in your rearview rather than go looking for trouble? You can always come back when you've got backup."

"Jesus Christ, give a guy some warning, would ya. Good thing I've already used the john. As to the other, first, I've never been accused of having too much common sense. Second, I've got back up, _**you**_."

Michelle managed to squeak out, "Me" before Dean continued. "Don't give me that look. I've seen you in action remember. You've got moves and an uncanny sense of smell. You sniffed out that ghost before even Dad knew what was goin' down."

"Didn't stop you from getting the crap beat out of you, though did it?"

"Well, no, but it kept me from getting dead."

"So that's your criteria for back up, it keeps you from getting dead? You've got a real mental problem, you know that?"

"I've got a mental problem? This coming from a chick whose rides around the country on a bike by herself. I'd say that would qualify as crazy."

"Don't call me chick and I don't go looking for trouble like you do. I stay in decent hotels that don't have blood stains on the carpet, I don't use tacky aliases to check into said hotels and I don't carry an arsenal in my saddle bags. I've always questioned your sanity, hunting the unnatural, but this? This proves to me that you are one crazy son of a bitch."

Dean wondered how this had escalated into a fight so quickly but it didn't stop him from continuing, "I may be a crazy son of a bitch, but at least I can go to sleep at night knowing I've done something."

"Done something? _**Done something**_?" Michelle's volume increased with each word. "All you managed to do, is not get yourself killed. It's like you have a death wish or something."

"He does. He has only four months left and he won't do anything about it." Sam's voice from the bed startled the combatants.

Dean's warning growl, "Sammy," didn't stop the words spilling from Sam's mouth.

"He made a deal with a cross roads demon. A **deal** with a **demon**. Me for him and now he has eight months left." Sam's little speech left him tired. He sagged back against the pillows but his angst was still clear.

Rounding on Dean, "**You what**?" was all Michelle could shout as other words echoed only in her head, _I knew this, it's all a part of the plan, but it doesn't mean I have to like it._

Dean growled again, "Sam, that's family business."

"I don't care, Dean. You won't listen to Bobby. You sure as hell won't listen to me. Maybe you'll listen to a virtual stranger you've managed to shack up with while I've been sick."

"What the hell are you talking about?" Dean shot back.

Sam motioned towards Michelle as he answered, "Her. You totally don't care. You've lost every ounce of common sense you had since you made that deal and now you can't even keep it in your pants long enough for me to get better."

"Wow, Sammy, that's low even for you. You really think I'd bang a girl with you in the bed next to us?"

"I don't know what you'd do anymore, Dean. I really don't."

Michelle's attention grabbing cough had both men yelling "What?" at the same time.

"Let's diffuse the bomb, boys, and take a second to explain things. I'll start. Sam, I'm Michelle, it's good to see you lucid and a pleasure to finally meet you." She motioned for Dean to continue. When he hesitated, she slapped him on the back of the head.

"Oww! What the hell was that for?" Dean bellowed.

"That's for being an idiot and I'm tempted to do it again just on principle. You wanna tell Sam who I am?"

Dean controlled his temper, but just. "Sam, this is Michelle. We met on a hunt after you went to Stanford. Spent some time together after I got the crap beat out of me. Paths have crossed ever since." Turning to Michelle he groused, "Happy now?"

"Extremely," Michelle scowled back at him."Now, how 'bout explaining this whole deal with a demon thing."

"It's none of your business."

"Sam just made it my business. Now start talking."

Glaring at his brother, Dean shrugged and reached for his jacket. Michelle was quicker, snatching it off the chair before he could. "This conversation isn't over, Dean. After everything I've done for you, you owe me."

"That's hitting below the belt, Chelle."

"Yeah, well, you're the one who taught me how to play dirty." Michelle crossed her arms and propped herself against the table, clearly going nowhere until she got what she wanted.

Dean sighed and dropped down on the edge of Sam's bed, shoulders slumping, hands hanging between his knees. "It's not that complicated. Sam got stabbed in the back and I wasn't going to let that be the end so I made a deal."

"Is that what you're sticking with you idiot?" Sam mumbled kicking his brother in the hip.

Dean had the decency to look uncomfortable. "Yeah, that's it, Sammy. So back to the matter at hand. There's something fishy goin' on in this town and I want to know what. Either you join me or I go it alone. Besides, I'm starving so I'm at least gonna get some grub."

Knowing she'd lost the battle for the moment, Michelle shot a pleading look at Sam and conceded, "Fine," she stated in a tone that clearly indicated the conversation was far from over, "but we go out with more than just pig stickers." She dug through her saddle bags pulling out two guns, a 9 mm Beretta and a Glock. She stuck the first into the back of her waistband and palmed the second in her left.

Dean smirked, "Now that's more like it." He quickly armed up, making sure he had chambered rounds. Glancing back to Sammy he ordered, "Stay put. We won't be long. Just a quick check around and a stop at the store for some food, then we'll be back."

Sam's face showed his disapproval but a coughing jag prevented his reply. Dean seized the opportunity to push Michelle out the door. The parking lot was almost full of cars but no people to go with them. Michelle saw an entirely different scene. There were beings everywhere, warily eyeing each other, waiting for someone to make a move but neither side willing to start it. Both sides had something at stake here and they could both be patient for a little while longer. Michelle's sword glowed so bright that it hurt the eyes of all those who could see it.


	7. Chapter 7

Dean strode confidently across the sidewalk. He was in his element, senses on high alert, body tingling with anticipation. He really wanted a fight. Michelle knew this and was just as determined to keep him from a fight as he was to get into one. As they passed by the stores on main street, they saw a typical quaint small town. Stores had clerks and a few customers. No one spared a glance at the pair even though they stood out like a sore thumb.

Much to Dean's chagrin, they made it to the store without finding a single thing wrong. The store looked the same as the night before except everyone ignored them. Michelle had to almost yell to get the waitress's attention in the small diner and even after she did capture the woman, it was a struggle to get their order placed. Dean stood close by, ever vigilant. They snagged their food and beat a hasty retreat. Back in the motel room, Michelle thanked their luck and Dean bemoaned it.

The three sat in heavy silence while they ate. Sam managed get down most of his broth before he succumbed to the sleep pulling at his eye lids. Dean and Michelle brooded, still not speaking. After thirty minutes Dean turned on the TV, flipping through the meager channels so fast it was surprising the remote didn't catch on fire. He finally settled on some war movie that quickly had Michelle grinding her teeth.

"So, are you gonna tell me the rest or do I have to hit you on the head again?"

Not bothering to pretend he didn't know what she was talking about, Dean shrugged. "Not much more to tell."

"Huh, I would've thought dealing with a demon would be an epic tell."

Dean's glare did nothing to her. "As I said, Sam was dead and I couldn't accept that so I made a deal with the crossroads demon and I got a year."

Michelle feigned innocence, "You told me all crossroads deals were ten year contracts. How come you got only a year?"

"Guess I'm just special that way."

"Is there a way out of it?"

"Not that I know of and not for lack of Sammy trying. I've faced it but Sam's having a hard time."

"Who wouldn't," was all Michelle could say, silently cursing man's free will and predestination.

"Why'd you really do it, Dean? And don't give me 'I don't know' cause that's not an acceptable answer."

Dean continued to stare at the TV. Just when she thought he wasn't going to answer, "I couldn't face this life without him."

"So now he's gonna have to face it without you?"

"Yeah, selfish, I know. Can we just let it go? What's done is done, not gonna change it."

"I'll quit bringing it up on one condition."

"Oh yeah, what's that?" he questioned, intrigued despite his better judgement.

"You agree to stay inside for the rest of the day and come first light, regardless of Sam's health, you leave this town in your rearview and don't look back."

"That's a hell of a condition."

"Take it or leave it. I'm sure you remember I can wax poetic all night long if I want to." Michelle gave him her best 'I'm here for the duration' look.

"Fine! But I have a condition of my own."

"Bring it on, big man."

"We work on my poker game."

Michelle let out a disbelieving chuckle, "Get your cards, buddy boy."

The next couple of hours flew by as the two made peace over five card stud, Texas hold 'em and blackjack. Sam slept through it all.

"Jeez us, that's five hands in a row," Dean exclaimed. "How are you doing it?"

"I keep telling you, Dean, you gotta start watching people's tales and you sir, have tales."

"I do not have tales. Do I?" Her giggle was his answer. "Okay great wise and all seeing, what exactly are my tales?"

"If you're gonna draw three, you inhale slightly. If the draw is good, you shift your cards."

"Seriously?" Michelle just raised her eyebrows in reply.

"So, how do I get rid of these tales when I'm aware of them?"

"Practice, my dear, practice. Now let's go again."

It finally came to the point where Dean was too stiff to sit still any longer. He raised both arms above his head, pulling on each elbow. He noticed Michelle watching his movements. "Still like what you see?" he questioned, wiggling his eyebrows.

Michelle grinned playfully. "I've always been good at spotting prime real estate."

"So, I'm a plot of land now? At least it's better than a piece of meat. Man, I don't know about you, but I gotta work these kinks out." Anticipating the her words, he added, "I'm not going outside, but I need to come up with something. I feel like I've been run over."

Standing up, Michelle stretched too. Not answering Dean, she moved over to check on Sam finding the young man sleeping deeply. She then walked over to the bathroom. "I hear a good hot shower can do wonders for tense muscles." Catching Dean's eyes, she slowly started to unbutton her shirt as she backed into the doorway.

Dean didn't miss the message. Moving with the grace of a cat, he advanced pulling his shirt from his waistband and toeing off his boots in the process. With a quick glance towards his little brother, Dean nudged Michelle the rest of the way into the bathroom and pushed the door shut with his foot. Reaching behind him, he locked the door with one hand and the other stilled Michelle's. "Let me finish those for you." Staring into her eyes rocked him to the core. He always felt like she could see clear to his soul and this time was not exception. It made him uncomfortable and highly turned on at the same time.

Dean slid the last button through its hole and pushed the shirt off her shoulders, kissing the exposed skin of her neck. Michelle inched her hands under the hem of his shirt starting to gently massage the muscles of his back and tipping her head to give him more access.

"This is crazy, right?" he mumbled as he concentrated on the spot just below her right ear that he knew she liked.

Michelle gasped, "ummm, probably."

Moving up to her jaw, he continued, "I mean I just told Sam I wouldn't do this."

Michelle found a particularly sore spot by his shoulder blade causing him to groan as she answered, "You said bed, not bathroom so technically." The rest of her sentence was cut of by Dean nibbling on her lower lip.

"Yeah, gotta like technicalities," he mutter finally covering her mouth with his. The words stopped as Dean caved in to the desires he'd been harboring ever since Michelle reappeared in his life. Michelle took full advantage of the situation, knowing it would be a long time before she saw Dean again and when she did, _this_ wouldn't be on the table.

By the time they got to bathing with soap the water was running lukewarm. By unspoken agreement, Dean was the first to leave the bathroom. Sam was still dead to the world, snoring and drooling onto his pillow. Dean felt rather than heard Michelle cross behind him to open the mini fridge. "Grab me one while you're at it, would ya?"

Michelle opened two beers, handed one to him and took the other with her as she sat down on the second bed. "How's Sam doing?"

He tilted the bottle in thanks, "Seems to be better. Feels like his fever broke."

She smiled in response, taking a swig of her beer.

Dean rubbed the back of his neck with his free hand. "So what do we do now? Kinda tired of cards and not quite hungry yet."

Michelle didn't say anything as she picked at the label on her bottle. She seemed so deep in thought, Dean didn't want to disturb her but he was feeling enough guilt over their actions that for once silence wasn't helping. "Chelle, you with me?"

"Yeah, Dean, sorry just thinking."

"Bout what?" he asked walking over to sit on the bed next to her.

She shrugged, but didn't answer right away still picking at the label. Dean pulled the bottle from her hands and quirked an eyebrow at her.

"Predestination, fate, what have you," she sighed

"What about them?"

"Well, how they guide everything humans do."

"Not buying it."

Stunned by the force of Dean's statement, all Michelle could do was gap at him. Dean took the look for what it was and continued, "Don't believe in either. Everyone makes their own future. There's no great plan, just the choices man makes that sets his course in this world."

"So you don't believe God has a plan for you?" The expression on his face made her go on, "You don't believe in God at all, do you?"

"I believe in what I can see, what I can feel. There isn't some higher being out there that is dictating my life. I make my own decisions, good or bad."

"Huh."

"That's all you got to say is 'huh'?" Dean asked in shock.

She looked him right in the eyes and said, "Yup, that's all I got. Huh. How bout some television?" It wasn't really a question as she grabbed the remote, turning on machine, effectively cutting off any more from Dean. Flicking through a few channels, she stopped on a documentary on Charles Lindberg. Dean had the brains to keep his mouth shut.


	8. Chapter 8

Sam woke up just before the show ended. Luckily his head was already turned towards the other bed. He quietly studied the pair lounging on the bed. They were both engrossed in a TV program and looked completely relaxed but Sam couldn't help feeling something was off. He laid there trying to figure out what was bugging him until Dean caught him staring.

"Hey, Sammy, how you feeling?"

"Better."

"Hey, there. Is there something I can get ya?" Dean asked watching Sam edge towards the side of the bed.

"Nah. Need the bathroom, but I can get there under my own steam this time."

Dean nodded, settling back against the headboard. Sam could feel two pairs of eyes boring into his back the whole distance to the bathroom door. The trip back was a bit more shaky, but he made it with the same sets of eyes watching his every move.

"Do you think you can some more food down?" Michelle asked as she got up and started pouring some soup into a bowl. She gave Sam a quick smile and took the bowl into the bathroom. It was seconds before the brothers heard the whirl of the blow dryer.

Dean shook his head "Gotta hand it to her. She's resourceful."

"Yeah, you would've served it to me cold."

"Now, Sammy, that's just not nice."

"Hey, Dean, you two argue or something while I was out of it?"

Michelle saved Dean from answering by bringing the now steaming bowl of soup over to the nightstand. "Take it easy, little bites, 'kay? Don't need a repeat of earlier," she said handing him a spoon.

"Thanks," Sam replied already sipping the broth.

"We might as well eat too. What part of the leftovers do you want, Dean."

Dean wandered over to rummage through the cartons rather than answering. They silently filled their plates with leftovers. Michelle swatted his arm as he tried to steal something from her plate and Dean just chuckled. Sam watched the easy interplay but he still couldn't shake the notion there was something different between the two.

The food saved them from idle conversation. The silence wasn't oppressive, just uncomfortable which made the sudden ruckus from the parking lot all that more unnerving. It sounded like a drunken brawl where the whole bar joined in. Dean strode to the window to peer through the curtains with Michelle right behind him.

"Damn, it looks like the whole town is out there," Dean growled reaching for his coat.

"Just what the hell do you think you're doing?" Michelle jumped on him.

"I'm gonna see what the hell's going on."

"No. You. Are. Not. You promised me you'd stay in this room."

"I'm at least gonna check on my baby," he stated walking to the door.

Michelle interceded, positioning herself between him and the door. "No, you aren't. I'll go check on both our rides." Just then there was a load bang against the door followed by the sound of glass shattering.

"If you think I'm going to let you go out there, you're crazier than you claim I am," Dean growled.

"And you think I'm going to let you?" she yelled back pushing against his chest.

"Well, someone needs to check on the rides and it's not going to be you, sweetheart." Dean yelled back as another bottle shattered against the wall, punctuating his statement.

"Well, it's not gonna be you either, sweetheart." The endearment sounding just like the insult it was meant to be.

"Sammy, a little backup here would be helpful," Dean pleaded over his shoulder.

"Oh, no. No way am I getting into your little lover's spat, Dean. You're both crazy to even think about going out there. Like you have a death wish or something. Oh, wait, one of you does. Shit, there's at least fifty people out there." His tone somewhere between awe and horror.

Too busy with their little tiff, the other two hadn't notice Sam going to the window. Dean crossed back to the window to see for himself. He really didn't like what he saw. It was a gigantic free for all out there and the idiots were really close to his car.

He advance on Michelle like a predator on its prey. She didn't budge. They were toe to toe in an instant.

"Chelle, you know I wouldn't hurt a woman, but if you don't move right now, I'm going to move you myself."

Michelle gave him a wicked grin and shoved him.

Before Dean knew what was happening, he was falling backwards onto the bed and Michelle was slipping through the outer door. Sam watched the whole scene play out slightly impressed that she'd gotten the better of his brother, but only slightly as he'd somehow known Michelle was going to win. As she slid through the door, he thought he saw what would best be described as a glowing long sword in her hand. Shaking his head to clear the vision he addressed Dean, "Let her go, Dean. I have a feeling she can handle this."

Dean jumped up and grabbed at the door handle. He glared over his shoulder as he tried the handle. It wouldn't budge. Trying again he cursed, "Son of a bitch. How'd she do that?"

As the fighting outside grew even louder, he joined his brother at the window. The site that greeted him made his jaw drop. Michelle stood between the Impala and the Victory bike, facing towards the motel. She was staring down a guy three times her size. He made a move towards her and just as Dean was going to jump through the window, she pulled a roundhouse kick, dropping the guy to the ground. She knocked him out by pistol whipping him. Spinning around she surveyed the lot. Lowering the the pistol, she raised her right arm, with her fist partially open and canted as if she was pointing something in her hand at the brawlers. She slowly started backing up, making her way to the hotel room door. Dean rushed back to the door, trying it again. This time it opened with ease and Michelle backed right into his arms. He slammed the door shut with his foot and Michelle set both locks. Dean couldn't help but to just stand there, holding her tight against him, while Michelle sagged into his embrace.

Shaking himself and her, Dean abruptly let go causing Michelle to lose her balance and almost fall, "What in the world," she exclaimed.

Dean rounded on her, barely keeping his volume below a yell, "That was the stupidest thing I have ever seen and if you knew half of what I've seen you'd really appreciated that I'm not wringing your neck for that stunt you just pulled."

Michelle just stared at the distraught hunter in disbelief. When she did speak, it wasn't the apology Dean was hoping for, "But you have to admit that roundhouse was fabulous."

Dean grabbed her again, pulling her close, while chuckling, "Yeah, it was pretty awesome, but for my piece of mind, next time please let the experts take care of it."

"I didn't see any around or I would have this time," she responded with a mischievous smile.

"Hey!" both hunters yelped, not quite managing to sound hurt.

Hearing sirens, Dean and Michelle joined Sam at the window. All three were amazed at how quickly a bunch of deviants could scatter when faced with flashing lights and screeching sirens. The cops didn't even have to get out of their cars. Taking in the wreckage scattered across the lot Dean muttered, "It's gonna be a bitch to get the car out without puncturing a tire."

No sooner had the words left his mouth, when the three were stunned again. A group of kids came barreling out of the motel office with brooms, dustpans, garbage cans, mops and buckets. Dean recognized one of them as being the kid from the garage. The group made quick work of cleaning up the mess. In Dean's opinion, garage boy never stopped talking and his goofy grin never left his face.

Michelle couldn't help but smile a little at the goofy rookie. He was doing a great job. She coughed into her hand to keep the boys from seeing her face, she distracted them with, "So guys what we gonna do for the rest of the day?"

Not being stupid, Sam took advantage of the question, "I really need a shower. Feels like I've been in the same clothes for a week. And before you say it, Dean, I don't need any comments about body order."

Dean gave his best "would I do that" look, "Bitch."

Sam's, "Jerk," was punctuated by a door shutting.

For lack of a better place to sit, Michelle flopped down on the bed. "So, how's the curmudgeon doing?"

"Who?" he asked before catching her pointed look, "Oh, you mean Bobby?"

Michelle shrugged.

"He's doing good. Still bourbon drenched and doing research."

She gave him a slight smile. "Hey, I was sorry to hear about your dad. Tough break."

"Yeah, thanks. How'd you hear about it anyway?" he asked, clearly puzzled.

"You know the hunter's world and the biker's world are pretty small. You'd be surprised how much they cross over and how much they both like to talk after a few drinks."

"Never thought you'd be the kind to seek gossip, Chelle."

"I'm not," she snapped indignantly, "Just like you, I sit back, listen. People get loose lips around attractive people."

Dean shook his head in disbelief, but didn't argue. He dropped down on the bed next to her, wiggling until he was comfortable.

"So, you seen Lisa yet?"

Dean gapped in amazement, "How'd you know about Lisa?"

"Oh please, Dean, all the drugs you were on. I probably know more of your dirty little secrets than you do. So have you?"

"Yeah, a few months back."

Michelle waited him out.

"She's good. Settled down. Got a kid, Ben. Good kid."

"Wow, don't use any extra words or anything. Wouldn't want to sprain your tongue."

"Not any more to say."

"Is that your new mantra, 'Not any more to say, not much to say about it'? Cause I gotta admit, it's getting a little old."

"What can I say, sweetheart, never been much for words. More a man of action."

Michelle couldn't help but grin, "Yeah, I remember."

Suddenly, Dean reached over and grabbed her hand, pulling her in for a kiss needing the unique connection he'd always had with her. It was a connection that always left him feeling like they were one person anytime they were together. "For the record, I don't wanna go to hell," he whispered against her lips. He gave her just enough time to whisper, "I know," back. They were just getting ready to come up for air when Sam interrupted.

"God, would you two get your own room and get it over with."

Dean turned at his brother's voice. "Maybe you should get pen and paper to take some notes. This might be the last time I get to teach you something. Michelle probably won't mind if you watch," he growled with a wolfish grin plastered on his face.

"Ah, man, come on. That's just, well, that's just wrong. Again, not a side I want to see of you, ever." Sam sank into the bed with a sigh, pulling the covers up and closing his eyes.

"Well, guess that answers what Sam's doing tonight," Michelle threw out as she jumped off the bed to clean up the empty food containers. Sam was asleep before the fist take out box hit the trash can.

Dean studied her, appreciating what he was seeing, when a thought entered his head and came out of his mouth without stopping, "Why are you so keen on us getting out of here at first light?"

Michelle didn't reply for a long moment and it was Dean's turn to wait her out. Michelle sighed trying to decided how much truth she needed to include to make him understand. Dean, despite all his pretending, wasn't stupid and there was no way he was going to fall for some half baked story.

Taking a fortifying breath, she turned to face him, looking him straight in the eyes. "You're right about this place, Dean. Something is going on in this town and it is too big for you and Sam to handle."

"And exactly how do you know about this?" he asked quietly.

"I ran into some gypsies a few weeks ago. An old woman came to me and told me she had a vision. She told me a man I cared about was going to drive into danger in this town and if I wanted to save him, I wouldn't let him stay for more than 2 days."

"And you believed her just like that? Didn't realize you were that gullible," he scoffed.

"No, I didn't believe her at first. You taught me better than that, but she had a proven track record. I just couldn't take the chance that she'd be wrong this time."

"So you hightailed it to middle of nowhere just to save my sorry ass. Ah, Chelle, didn't know you cared that much," he teased.

"Well, it's not like I wasn't headed this way to begin with so it wasn't much of an effort," she teased right back. "Now get your sorry ass off that bed and help me finish cleaning up."

"Yes, ma'am!"

Their cleaning party was interrupted by a loud banging on the door and a shouted, "House Keeping!"

Dean quickly grabbed his gun from the table and quietly moved to the door. "We didn't request anything," he barked while looking through the pep hole. Damned if it wasn't that motor mouth kid.

"I know, sir, but I'd like to offer you some fresh towels and some new coffee packets."

"We're good, but thanks anyway."

"Well, okay, if you're sure. Oh, I'm also to offer the motel's sincere apologies for the ruckus in the parking lot and to let you know those responsible are being taken to task by the powers that be. Also, if there is any damage to your vehicles all you need to do is record it and turn it into the motel office. The perpetrators will have to pay restitution for their thoughtless acts. It may take some time for everything to be sorted out, but if you leave a forwarding address any monetary compensation will be sent. Well, if you don't have any questions, I'll move on to the next room. You don't do you?"

It took Dean a couple of seconds to catch up with the kid, "Do I what?" he asked in confusion.

The boy gave an elaborate sigh, "You don't have any questions, do you?"

Dean looked to Michelle for help. "No, we don't have any questions. We understand the message. Thank you for your consideration," she answered loud enough for the boy to hear.

"Well, okay then. I'll be on my way," he replied so happily that Dean wouldn't have been surprised if the brat was skipping to the next room.

Dean shot an exasperated look at Michelle. "How does that kid not run out of air?"

"Don't know. Maybe he's on the swim team or something. Finish up here, I need to use the facilities."

"What in the hell would being on the swim team have to do with his motor mouth?" he questioned, automatically going to do her bidding.

Michelle gave him a 'come on seriously' look, "You know. Having to hold his breath underwater. Makes for good lungs."

Dean started laughing and threw an empty plastic cup at her. She caught it easily and tossed it back, aiming for the trash can and making it. "Score," she crowed closing the door.


	9. Chapter 9

The minute she had privacy, Michelle gave thanks for all that had been done. The situation could've been a lot worse if Dean had won the dispute. There would have been no need to wait for the hell hounds. She cursed man's free will again, then immediately apologized for the disrespect.

Staying as long as she dared, Michelle emerged to find Sam still sleeping soundly and Dean lounging on the bed with the TV remote in his had. At least this time he was stopping on the channels long enough to see what was playing. "So, you want first dibs on the shower?" she asked.

Dean cocked his head in her direction, "Nah, you go ahead. I'd offer to join you, but I think we've pushed our luck with Sammy." Michelle grabbed her stuff and went back in to the bathroom, knowing a response wasn't needed.

When she came out a second time, Sam had rolled over and Dean was dozing. Trying to be as quite as she could, she took care of things and settled in the chair because she'd already learned first hand the consequences of accidentally waking the sleeping hunter. Yeah, she'd never do that again, so she contented herself with just watching him.

Dean rolled over lazily, "Mmm, Chelle, I'm gonna miss ya. Gonna miss all this."

"Are you getting maudlin on me, Dean?"

"Nah, just, well, you know," he snuffled out. Then as if what he'd just said dawned on him, he slapped his forehead and groaned, "God, I almost started a chick flick moment." He immediately jumped up, grabbed his whole bag and literally jogged to the bathroom.

Michelle didn't dare laugh, but just as she was getting ready to point out that the bathroom was too small for it's occupant and his bag, said bag came flying out to land next to her with a loud thump and an accompanying slam. This time she did laugh.

Dean took long enough for Michelle to finalize their exit plan. Nothing too fancy, just a quick load and leave. She'd follow the hunters out of town and let the others finish the job, much to her chagrin. She'd been looking forward to a battle. It'd been a while, almost a millennium since that last time since her sword had dripped with demon blood. Shaking her head, not a time or place for this. Deciding she'd antagonized Dean enough for the time being, she crawled into what was her side of the bed to wait for him. She'd offer the last bit of comfort she'd be able to give.

Dean stepped out of the small room, steam billowed around him. Sam was sleeping heavily, no longer wheezing with every breath. Michelle was on her back, eyes closed, one arm tucked up under her head. He knew she wasn't asleep. As he crawled in next to her, he pulled her to his side and held her as if his life depended upon it. No words were necessary.

Waiting until Dean was deeply asleep, Michelle slipped from his arms. She wanted to have everything ready to go the minute it was time. She could've manipulated the time scale, but decided against it as it would leave the two men off kilter. She quickly packed their bags setting them by the outer door. Snagging the keys for the Impala, she put her hand on the door. She didn't want to walk into an ambush. The silent communication came back, all clear. She grabbed the bags in one hand, produced her sword in the other and slipped quietly out the door.

Michelle quickly loaded the car before she surveyed the area. Yellow and green eyes were glowing everywhere. Time was running out. Michelle guessed she had only four hours left. The boys needed their sleep so she didn't want to wake them any earlier than necessary. She had to find some time. Walking to the front of Dean's baby, she put her had on the hood, closed her eyes and began the delicate process of altering the car's engine in a way Dean would never notice.

"You know it's inevitable, right?'

The voice pulls her from her concentration. She doesn't jump at the unexpected interruption but she does take a step back. "It's good to see you again, Gabriel. Did you find the answers you were looking for?"

The charming looking blonde man in front of her gave her a goofy grin, "I'll only answer your question if you answer mine, my dear well," a long pause and an ogling look preceded the last word, "sister."

"Get your mind out of the gutter, my brother. This vessel works for now."

"Tell yourself whatever you need to. Sooo, how's Daddy?"

Michelle watches him carefully. She knows he doesn't really want an answer to his last question so she goes for the first, "It may be inevitable, but I still have the authority to make it a little easier. I can't help it, I like these humans."

"Again, whatever you need to tell yourself. Good Luck with that." Gabriel disappears as fast as he appeared.

Michelle lets out a sigh. Only Gabriel could say so much while saying nothing at all. For a moment, she mourns the loss of family and then returns her attention to Dean's baby. Putting the finishing touches in place, she marks the roof and trunk and heads back to the room. It wasn't hard to sneak back in and curl up against Dean as if she'd been there the whole time.


	10. Chapter 10

Just before the appointed hour, Michelle got up to clean the room. She threw away all the food containers and did a once over to make sure nothing was left behind. Wanting to let both men get all the sleep they could, she settled in a chair to silently savor her last hour with them. Just before predawn, she woke them up.

"Rise and shine, boys! Time to hit the road," she yelled.

Dean came up with a start while Sam just muttered, "It's still dark out" and rolled over.

"Be that as it may, it's time for you to leave this hell hole in your rearview. Now get your sorry asses out of bed, take care of the basics and let's go," she ordered.

"Christ, Chelle, when did you join the army?" Dean mumbled as he rose to do as he was told.

"Don't you know, Dean, I've always been in the army. I've lead thousands into battle and came out victorious every time. Now get Sam up and let's get going."

Dean couldn't tell by tone or word if she was kidding, so he grumbled something nonsensical and yanked the blankets off of Sam. "Come on, Sammy, best to do what the self appointed DI says." His statement gets him an exasperated looks from both of his companions.

Michelle stands by the window and taps her foot impatiently the entire time it takes for the guys to get their acts together to leave. If he wasn't so distracted by her agitation, Dean probably would've notice their bags were gone a lot sooner than he did. "What the hell? Where's our stuff?" he says to no one specific.

"It's already loaded. Now finish up and Let's. Go."

"Jeez, don't get your undies in a bunch," he growls back.

"What's the rush?" Sam questions, truly confused.

Sighing deeply, Michelle decides the truth is the only way she's going to be able to light a fire under their buts and get them out of here. She levels her eyes on Sam and says, "This whole town is going to be vaporized and I personally don't want any of us to be here when it happens."

"Well, why didn't you just say so in the first place." Dean states more than questions.

"Sorry, didn't realize that I had to put it in such simple words for you to get the picture," Michelle responds sourly. "THIS TOWN WILL GO BOOM!" she continued using her best imitation of a preschool teacher.

If the situation had been different, it would've been comical at how quickly the men responded. They were ready in under three minutes. Having already prepped their departure, Michelle doesn't stopped the guys from leaving the room first, letting them play the protectors. Settling Sam into the passenger seat with a blanket he _borrowed _from the motel, Dean shuts the door and turns to Michelle who is already sitting on her bike.

"You leave first. You're more exposed. I'll be right behind you, promise."

Michelle readily concedes but with a condition, "You have to promise me that no matter what, neither of you will look back after we leave the city limits. I mean it, Dean. You have to promise," she cuts off what she knows is his words of protest.

"Fine. I promise that too. Now get that thing started," Dean agreed, finally getting Michelle's anxiety. He didn't even try to hide it as he rushed around the car after the motorcycle roared to a start.

Michelle waited long enough for Dean to get the Impala started before she pushed her bike backwards out of the parking spot. Her sword held easily in her hand making it an easy extension of the handlebars. A brightly blue glowing threat, a promise. She motioned for Dean to back up, at the same time conveying she'd pull ahead once he was rolling. They pull out of the parking lot side by side before she guns the engine and sets a fast pace down the road. Dean wonders if his baby will be able to keep up with the rapidly moving bike as he pushes the pedal closer to floor. The Impala smoothly increases speed and Dean is doing ninety before he even knows it.

Sam has kept quite long enough, "Dean, what exactly is going on in that town and why does Michelle know about when we didn't."

Dean doesn't take his eyes from the road, "I don't know what's going on, Sammy. She said a gypsy told her and I believe her. 'Sides, even if I didn't trust her, I felt it when we were getting in the car. There's some strong evil in that town. Oh, she made me promise we wouldn't look back." At Sam's look, Dean stated, "And we won't."

They were just coming to the top of a hill a few miles out of town when an extremely bright light from behind them lit up the interior of the car, startling the two hunters. Dean thought it must have rattled Michelle as well because she was pulling to the shoulder, stopping. Dean whipped in front of her bike, slammed on the brakes and jumped out to see if she was okay, Sam following suit. Michelle turned to face them as the light faded away behind her. For a minute Dean thought he saw a shadow of wings bracketing Michelle's silhouette on the ground in front of him, but it disappeared as did the light behind her.

He barely caught her whispered, "It is finished," before she let loose on him yelling at the top of her lungs, "I thought I told you not to look behind us."

Completely baffled by the venom in her voice, Dean yelled back equally as loud, "I was worried the blast of light had blinded you or something. Sorry for being concerned about your well being."

All the fight left her. Michelle walked over to Sam and put a hand on his cheek and whispered in his ear, "It'll all be okay, Sam, you just need to keep your faith." Sam looked at her with puzzlement, but didn't respond. She patted his cheek and turned to Dean.

Walking to Dean, she put her arms around his neck, pulling him down for a brief kiss. "I wish I could've prepared you better for what is to come." Placing her had over his heart, she continued, "Dean, you're stronger than you know."

Abruptly, she pulled away, strode to her bike and was gone before either man could react. They thought they heard, "See you soon," as she departed. Neither moved until her taillight vanished.

Sam was the first to recover. "Dean look," he demanded waving his arm in the direction of the town. Correction, in the direction of where the town should have been. Even from this distance they should have been able to see some lights, even the faint edges of buildings in the advancing dawn. There was nothing, a complete void.

Dean looked at Sam, back at the barren landscape and looked in the direction Michelle had went, "What the hell!"

With nothing to go on, the two hunters exchanged glances and climbed back in the car. By an unspoken agreement, neither of them would bring up this time again.

Epilogue:

"Castiel, it's time."

"I'm ready."

"This isn't going to be an easy assignment. They are stubborn and full of free will. Sam can be reasoned with, but Dean, well he is, well, complicated."

"I'll do my best."

"I know you will, brother."

"You care for them?"

"Yes."

"I will watch over them. Help them find their way."

"It is God's will."


End file.
